6 Feet Under
by akeara4
Summary: It was hard to hide it, but there was no way he was going to let everyone see how it had effected him, how much of a colossal wimp he was. But dying over and over and over again trapped in a coffin does things to you.M for nightmare fuel.Squinty pre-slash


Nathan thrashed up against the wooden wall above him, screaming as loud as his dying body allowed in the minuscule chance of rescue. His hands, now covered in dried blood from the many attempts before, were beginning to bleed at the knuckles as he punched the coffin lid with the small space he had. His breath was coming in wisps and he could feel the absolute lack of oxygen in the small enclosed space. His lungs began to sting uncontrolably, clutching for what little air it could find, and he began to hyperventilate.

He cursed to himself, unable to control the spasms his body began as it realized there was no more fuel for his lungs. _Not again._ he thought. _Please just let it be permanent._ He felt a bile come up his throat and leaned his head to the side, letting the empty acid leave his mouth, sending a familiar burn down through his neck and chest. His body seized up and he felt his organs shut down, one by one. He'd memorized the order by this point. In seconds his heart would shut down, forcing him to wake again and relive it for all eternity. He felt his heart finally stop pumping, and all consciousness disappeared.

Nathan jerked up from his mattress, hair plastered to his face in sweat and his clothes and blanket in a bunch. His chest heaved with each breath, as if trying to save up air in case of another suffocation. He curled up into a ball, trying to calm his nerves. He was shaking from both the cold and his nightmare's effects and he couldn't stop it.

It was the third night since they'd dug him up, and the third night he'd had the nightmare since then as well. He sat there in the fetal position for a good hour before calming down enough to check the clock.

5:38

Lovely.

He got up once he could force himself to move again and wobbled over to the candy vending machine. Using all the force available to his still shaking body, he shook the machine mercilessly and grabbed his breakfast of a kit-kat and some chips. He knew the community service was supposed to start at 8, so he took a long shower and put his clothes and jumpsuit on. By the time he was done, it was half past seven when he finished and he wished he could take a nap to catch up on the lost sleep from the last few nights, but when he had tried to the day before, it had only ended in another nightmare.

He sat there staring into space for a half hour before his friends shuffled in, all getting dressed and greeting him tiredly. He made some witty comments in return, one about Curtis and Alisha's wank parties and another about Barry's lovers looked annoyed and Barry seemed to not care. They finished getting ready and walked outside to be greeted by their probation officer.

"Morning. Today you lot are gonna repaint the recreation center." He said dryly. " Have fun." With that, he turned to leave, but was interrupted by Nathan's comment.

"Oh don't worry! We'll have a right old time!" He flung an arm around Simon. "Won't we, Barry?" Simon sighed and rolled his eyes before shoving Nathan off his shoulders.

The paints and brushes were already lined along the walls when they came into the recreation room, and thus they immediately got to work.

It wasn't long before Nathan started to zone out, doing the painting in a half asleep state. He'd painted over the same spot before Kelly broke him out of his haze.

"Nathan, Ya' alright?" She asked, waving a hand over his face. He fell out of the half-consciousness and looked over at her.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He assured." You should really be wondering about Barry over here. I bet he feels so invisible over there, with no one to talk to. I mean those two have got a lot of flirtin' going on, and poor Barry's left out here to fend for himself."

_The last thing I need is everybody to worry about me._ He thought. Kelly's face changed to one of concern. _Ah fuck! She can hear me! Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about i-_

"I have to piss." he excused himself, running to the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror and sighed. He really didn't want his friends to find out he got scared of something so stupid. "Oh no! I'm trapped in a box! So scary!" He mocked himself out loud, trying to make himself feel better. He groaned in annoyance as a memory from the casket flooded his head and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Pull yourself together." He ordered himself. "Just don't think about it. Kelly'll find out if you let your mind wander. Oh fuck i must be crazy." He laughed a little. "I'm talking to myself!" It annoyed him how some time in a box underground could have effected him this much to the point where he couldn't even sleep. He groaned and pissed before returning to the recreation room.

Everyone had stopped huddling together and stared at him when he entered. It was pretty obvious that they had been talking about him and probably worrying about him, but he decided to play dumb to make things less difficult and awkward.

"Guys, guys. I know I'm pretty, but we've got work to do!" He joked, immediately dissipating the moment as everyone returned to their posts.

When they finished the painting, the day was almost done. They had a few posters to scrape off and all would be dandy. Nathan managed to keep his front up, and no one questioned his act for the rest of the day. He hoped that he could possibly get some sleep (maybe if he tried to sleep early) tonight, and as soon as everyone left, he went for his bed.

It took him about an hour to realize he couldn't fall asleep, so he went to the cabinets in the kitchen to find beer. He drank with purpose, never moving from the cabinets where the poison was readily available. It didn't take long for him to get wasted beyond recognition to the point where, if he could make it to his bed, he should definitely sleep like a baby.

He wobbled up the stairs to his little cove, tripping a couple times, but miraculously not getting hurt very much, and lied down on his bed, extremely sleepy. He covered himself in the cozy blanket and quickly drifted into darkness.

Unfortunately, the darkness wasn't as peaceful as he had hoped.

He lay in the closed coffin, his head surrounded by a liquid that he was sure was some sort of body fluid. He coughed, spattering something warm on the ceiling which soon chose to drip back down on him. blood, he guessed, as it didn't sting like the bile around his head. His stomach clutched at him, asking for anything- food, water, hell even eating his own clothes would do at this point, and he wished he had the strength to move any limbs to try to help himself in any way.

He heard footsteps above him, the faint speaking of his superpowered friends. He tried to yell. He tried with all his might. The result was a near silent rasp that came from his mouth, the last hope for rescue. He hoped that next time he was revived he would have a voice, but he knew it wasn't going to happen. There wasn't any air left in the casket for him to make a sound any more. He'd wasted all the oxygen in the casket on screaming when they weren't there.  
>He knew he was going to never be rescued. He knew that once he'd been dead long enough, they'd stop even going to his grave. He'd be doomed to eternity reviving and dying and reviving and dying and over and over and over again. He wondered if at one point he'd just stay dead, his stomach possibly eating through the rest of is body from the utter lack of sustinence. Or if his lungs would fill with his bile and he'd be continuously choking to death, his neck burning up into charred remains.<p>

His stomach twisted, and if he had the ability to scream, he would have. It was happening again. He briefly wondered how much acid his stomach actually contained before it came up his throat and spattered across his chest and neck. He started to feel his organs failing again and counted them down humourlessly. Stomach. Liver. Kidneys. Lungs. Heart. Brain.

The last one was never actually reached. Before his brain shut down, everything stopped. The pain, the sounds of silence, the smells, everything. He found himself bolting up in his bed.

Covered in sweat again and shaking badly, it took Nathan a good few minutes to realize it was a dream. Once he knew, he curled into the fetal position and leaned against the railing, shaking worse than the night before.

"Nathan. Are you alight?" A tiny voice said. Nathan was almost sure he hadn't heard it at all, until it repeated itself, a little louder. "Nathan."

He looked up to see Simon, looking down at him through compassionate and worrying eyes.

"S-Simon..." He managed to choke out, still hyperventilating a bit. He didn't even realize he used the correct name. Simon knelt in front of him and held his face steady, seemingly studying him.

"The casket?" Was all he had to ask. How he managed to read him so well was beyond Nathan, so he just nodded, incapable of thinking of his pride at the particular moment. Simon sat next to him and patted his back, obviously in an awkward attempt to cheer him up. Nathan couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the attempt, but it _was_ making him feel better.

"T-thanks." He stuttered before cursing at his horrible probably looked so fucking pathetic right now. And he couldn't even make a joke to make it better. How utterly useless.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Simon asked, voice even quieter in the tone of compassion. Nathan seemed to have to look up to make sure he actually wanted to comfort and not some sort of revenge prank. The worried eyes stared back at him, probing for information to help with the comfort.

"I... guess..." He answered. He leaned a little into Simon, not caring how gay it seemed. It didn't matter. He just needed something to confirm that this wasn't some sick dream he was having and he was still in the casket. Simon's warmth and awkward attempt at calming him were the only things confirming reality.

"You don't have to if you don't want to." He bargained. Nathan almost turned up the offer, but found that he really did need to talk to someone about this. And it wasn't like Simon would care if he was a wimp or not. After all, Barry was a bigger wimp than him any day of the week. He wouldn't care about Nathan losing it once during the night.

"Wait." He interjected. "Why are you here, Barry?" he questioned, not that he didn't like the company, but...

"Kelly told me to spy on you. To see what's wrong." He explained. Well at least he was honest. "Now what happened?"

"You can't tell them." Nathan begged, his pride back on his mind. There was no way he was going to let Kelly know that he's a pathetic wimp now that he got the worse possible power to be buried alive with. Simon stared seriously at him.

"Of course I wont." He promised. "What happened in the casket?"  
>Nathan breathed in and began his story.<p>

He told Simon about waking up and suffocating for the first time. He then moved on to the times he starved to death or died of dehydration. Then there was the times he choked on his own blood or bile. The time his stomach acid burned through his stomach and disintegrated many of his organs. The count down he learned- the organs always failed in a specific order. He explained wishing he could pick up his own shit and eat it, if only to be less hungry, and how by that point he had no motor control and wasn't able to feed his hunger. He would pause a lot during his story, looking up to be sure Simon was still listening. Simon always was, and would give him a small reassuring smile before Nathan would continue. Nathan ended with saying how since he was rescued, every time he closed his eyes, it felt like he was back in the ground, and that he was a total wimp for acting like this,

That was when Simon spoke up.

"You're really brave." He said in his small voice. "If they knew-"

"Don't tell them." His pride depended on it, Simon just nodded.

"Do you want to tell me about your nightmare?" He asked, knowing that taking about a nightmare prevents it's return at times. Nathan shrugged and agreed to it.

This time, instead of the more technical descriptions, he gave vivid detail. Every detail of his dream he shared with Simon. He wanted Barry to actually understand why he woke up shivering and in a cold sweat. He didn't know how long he spoke for, but when he finally finished, he looked at Simon to gauge his reaction. The shorter man looked at him worriedly for a moment.

"Are you alright, Nathan?" He asked worriedly. Nathan smiled up at him.

"Of course, Barry. I get over it pretty fast, 'cause I've got a giant pair." he said, gripping his crotch comically. He was happy that his wit had returned finally, not liking when he couldn't be a smartassed prick to people because of his own patheticness. He quickly pulled out his phone and checked the time. Quarter to 5.

"You can still get three more hours of sleep." Simon suggested. "If you wake up, I'll be here." He said before Nathan nearly automatically lied down on his bed, thoroughly exhausted and even willing to risk another nightmare for a few hours rest. He was barely finished positioning himself before he fell into immediate sleep.

Woot. There's the first chapter of this~! I had sooooo much fun writing the nightmare scenes *has never written nightmare fuel b4* But tell me if I did alright, kay? And criticism is wanted. Thanks. *doesn't like unbearably long AN's*

~Akeara


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